It all started with a fork. It was sitting there, innocently minding it’s business while I ate hummus with raw vegetables. Somehow I flipped it off the hightop table to the ground. While I was picking it up, my other fork committed suicide to join the first one. #romeoandjuliet
Later that evening there was a missed 2 inch step, and a body hurtling toward a door after successfully ascending and descending 3 flights of stairs in 5 inch platform heels. #onlyaklutz
The next day, miles of walking in flip flops. Walking up to Rite-Aid, didn’t see the curb and landed right (bad) knee first, then other knee and hands. Yes. Face plant with a nearly full iced coffee. Knee throbbing all I could say was, “I need more coffee”, repeatedly. #addictmuch
Later the same afternoon, after walking a total of 6 miles in flip flops, climbing the infamous 3 flights again, I stumble, fall, steady myself and grab her leg like a walker in a zombie flick. “Sorry K,” I manage while laughing hysterically. She says “Are you sure you don’t have a neurological disorder? “. Personally, I’m starting to wonder. #whatiswrongwithme
Same afternoon. I don’t even have my own plate of food, I’m sharing from two. And I send her fork flying to the ground. Not mine. Hers. At this point it looks intentional. Or at least forks are very very afraid of me. As am I. #iamdangerous
Imagine an incredibly warm windy day out of nowhere and the joy it would produce in the runner…..well most runners anyway. When I laced up it was 71 and I thought to myself WOW, that’s actually hot by my standards, ok. I made sure I had my inhaler tucked into my bra, a full water bottle on my hand, and as little clothing as possible on my body. I set out and had app issues with the pink ribbon C25K app…UGH! It didn’t tell me to run, so I was walking, so I had to back up the app. So far I feel pretty good but evidently…super slow. My first mile was an entire minute slower. Being colder definitely helps me move faster. But whatever, it’s week 2, it’s all about the breathing now.
I work my way into the second mile, and I just feel OFF. My legs feel like lead. I feel like I can’t pick my feet up, I’m almost stumbling or shuffling. I just want to survive this workout and get home. The wind is battering me and making me feel like I have no footing. I stop to take pictures, tweet, and then get going again, restarting the still malfunctioning app. It kept opening the app store and then the verbal prompts didn’t happen; I was sooooo aggravated. I want to love running today because it’s beautiful but my path was closed and my body felt like….ASS. I said it. ASS. It felt like dirty smelly been at work too long ASS.
I think I need to 1. Hydrate better while teaching and 2. Fuel my body better. I’m sure some people can run after they eat anything but that cookie I ate at the end of the day was………..foolish. I felt like a heffer and when I feel like a heffer I eat like one. See how self-fulfilling negative thoughts are? Stupid heffer. Lose some damn weight….heffer. There’s a fat ass runner and then there’s a fat ass runner who is still eating crap on occasion when she needs to detox. So. No more total suck. It has to stop here, it’s time to get serious about calories and clean eating. W3 has to be better than W2. W2 D3 will be better…..I will turn off the negative tape in my head next time I run. I have to say nice things to my body so it can perform despite the many obstacles it faces. I need to love myself better, extra pounds and all.
It was day 2. I set out and my calves and quads were tight as I walked briskly for the five-minute warmup thinking to myself….must get further than I did on Saturday. And I did. So then I relaxed a little and let my body fall into the rhythm. After the first running interval all I could think was….OMG…how many of these? My brain was calculating 60 seconds times 8 that’s 8 minutes and 90 seconds times 8 is 720 seconds which is 12 minutes…ok that’s 20 yep I’m a teacher I can totally do that in my head while running to distract myself from…dying!
It was sunny, 35 and beautiful, really, not too windy. And I was on a roll, finished mile one at 14:57 and she said you’re halfway! YAY I made it a mile….that was so fast, so I went a few extra feet before turning around at the end of the building. At the end of that running interval I started to hack and get a cramp again…..no sir, hey I know how to do this….slow deep breaths, two deep fast breaths, slow shallow….I was deep breathing out of asthmatic panic, old school. Neurons, muscles, working well together. Cardiovascular…well a little pissed off from so much time working 70 hours a week and not doing…CARDIO.
This time I was shocked when she said “one more minute” so I jogged that last minute slowly before my cooldown, old school AGR style. I know people who can’t run at all. People who struggle even more than I do. And I know one thing for certain, whether I can always run or not, as long as I continue my cardio, I am Asthma Girl Runner….I will always be a runner at heart, for life.
I started with a brisk walk and I felt alive, every step connecting my body to my neighborhood to my city and to my world. Every familiar landmark that I ran past felt like a milestone conquered. Grandview. Dayton Art Institute. MacPhersontown. The river stairway. Main Street bridge. Almost to Riverscape and back.
My asthma was so loud. It probably scared people. But still every time my app told me to run I ran. I ran until I coughed so hard I almost puked during one walking interval. I ran until I cried. I screamed I want to die. But I ran every interval and I never ever stopped moving.
If you’ve never run you might question my sanity. But if you have, I don’t need to explain myself; once a runner you always want to be one again, even when it hurts. Hell. Especially when it hurts.
Not even a plummet
Immersion in people
Imagine there’s no heaven
Only pain in this world
Imagine every night you wake
With scary mystery aches throbs stabs.
Imagine 26 days of anxiety
Wondering if you’re silly or a time bomb ticking away to death
Imagine test after test no answers
Research every week obsessing a little on the unknown
Imagine being diagnosed by a rule-out
Thorough if heated communication
Imagine the root cause is treatable
Surgery to happen when work takes a break
Imagine the joy and hope that accompanies less pain
Moving allowed, limited fitness permitted
Imagine the ecstasy as I cross the bridge
Literally to the other side.
Sunday morning. AGR peeps. Sunday.
She needs sleep
But it shall not claim her
She wants love
But it shall not own her
She needs rest
But it shall not have her
She needed focus
It shall have her